The Forgotten Mother
by Lady of Snow
Summary: Sora's mother forgets him. When she finally remembers he's still not home.


Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts nor will I ever.

The Forgotten Mother

Sora hadn't come down for dinner when she called him. That in itself worried her a little. Nothing major, maybe that he was sick or swamped with his summer research paper.

His mother Izumi dried her hands on a blue dish towel before setting it beside the sink. She made her way to Sora's room, up the staircase lined with family photos, until finally she was at his door.

Pushing it open she took in the sight. It hadn't changed much from when he was just a child. The furniture was bigger for his bigger things. The clothes strewn about the floor, the airplane hanging from the ceiling, and red was still the predominant color; all of that was still the same. Yes, nothing really had changed about Sora's room except that he was gone and his window was open.

Izumi assumed he had run off to go hang out with Riku. Or Kairi – he seemed to have a thing for her these days, even if he would deny it until he was blue in the face. The sky was looking offly dark so they might be tying up that raft they'd been working on all summer.

Nothing to worry about at any rate. With care that had been practiced many times over the years she packed up his dinner (lasagna his favorite) in Tupperware for later. Even though she knew he'd know it was for him she still placed a sticky note on top of it that read: '_Sora – lasagna. Love, Mom.' _After that she sat down with her husband to watch their nightly shows before bed.

And then before she knew it everything went black. In the darkness time seems to pass so slowly you never really know how much time has actually passed. In reality Destiny Islands was restored in a few months.

Izumi felt as if she had been gone from her home for quite some time. Although that didn't really make any sense. She had always lived on the islands and eventually she had married.

The following months were spent trying to remember someone she wasn't sure she was supposed to remember. Some days she came very close to forgetting altogether but then Kairi would show up on her doorstop talking about forgotten boys and hearts.

Other than that it was little things that made her think that something was wrong.

Walking up the stairs with her arms full of laundry she'd glance at the photos that lined the wall. Friends, family, and vacations stared back at her. Some of the pictures seemed downright empty. While hanging up her favorite dresses one thought wouldn't leave her: '_Why didn't we ever have children?'_

One week later over dinner Izumi brought up the thought that she couldn't shake. Her husband slowed his chewing as he thought it over.

"I thought we'd agreed a long time ago that children weren't right for us. Wouldn't fit our lifestyle. Let's talk about this next week when I'm not so stressed out about this commission for work."

With that they returned to their meal. Although for Izumi it was really just picking at her plate.

"By the way, I thought you hated lasagna?"

The funny thing is that she did. Lasagna had been her least favorite meal ever since she was ten. She didn't like to think about the why but it had gotten her terribly sick. Ever since then she had avoided it as much as she could.

-But earlier at the grocery store she had been picking up spare items for the next few nights dinners. While she was looking at the pasta aisle she had the sudden urge to make lasagna. Even stranger was the whole time she had been baking it it felt as if she was making it for someone, not just for dinner. Someone with a blinding smile.

Izumi cleared the table after dinner without a word.

Cleaning wasn't exactly her favorite chore. Well, she didn't really have a favorite. It had to be done though so she did it without complaint.

On this particular day she stood just inside her linen closet. It was filled with towels, soaps, shampoos, and the like. Her goal was to get rid of all the toiletries they would never use. It was while doing this that her eyes were drawn to a wooden door at the end of the hall. It's like every other door in her home except for that as long as she can remember it's been closed. She can't quite remember what's behind nor can she bring herself to open it.

At the foot of their bed slept a yellow Labrador named Pants (which is really a ridiculous name for a dog, who named him anyway). As she makes her coffee in the morning she forgets to let Pants out every time until it's almost too late. Thinking of the dog's age she has to wonder how she could forget something that she must have done a million times.

There's one habit that Izumi has developed that she wishes she could remember the reason behind. Every night just as the darkness settles in the sky she goes around the house locking all of the windows.

Sora awakes on a Thursday with all of his memories intact thanks to a witch who is more good than she thinks. Sora for one feels refreshed, better than he has in ages in fact, almost like he's complete.

Izumi was walking up the stairs when she remembered her son. Her son with blue eyes much like her own and a blinding smile that would light up any of her days. She barely registered the laundry basket tumbling out of her hands landing at the bottom of the stairs spilling articles of clothing as it went. As she fell to her knees she was too busy trying to stop shaking. From between her fingers she looked to her family photos that until now had not been complete. Slowly they filled with details of an entire life she had forgotten.

She was too busy recalling events from the past few months that now made sense. Lasagna for a boy who wouldn't be coming home, a bedroom untouched for more than a year, and pants who Sora had begged for on his ninth birthday. His bargaining chip had been that he would let the dog out and take him for walks. Locking windows so he could never leave her again, never mind that he was still gone. How blue was his favorite color but he told everyone it was red because Riku's was blue and he didn't want people thinking he was copying the older boy. Random things only a mother would know – a mother who had forgotten her only son.

After what felt like way more time than what had actually passed (at least too much time spent sobbing sprawled across her staircase) she finally collected herself enough to reach the top of the stairs. Turning towards the door she had avoided up until this point – she had a choice to make now. She could go into whatever was on the other side or go on avoiding it for as long as she could.

Izumi was a much braver woman than Sora gave her credit for. Opening a door may not be a brave act to some but to a mother with a missing son it definitely was.

The room was the same as when she had opened the door over a year ago. Clothes covered the floor (what floor?), she could make out his favorite dinosaur t-shirt. The airplane swayed softly from the breeze that came through the window that was still open after all this time. After all this time and no Sora. Izumi thought that she should have known that something like this would not be that easy.

Izumi slowly crossed the room until she was leaning over his bed to close his window. She backtracked out of the bedroom shutting the door behind her. Other than the window she had touched nothing.

Over the next year her husband became increasingly worried about her. He too felt guilty for forgetting his son and brushing off the nagging suspicion that something (or _one_) was missing. There were quiet moments when he would come across her standing at the sink holding a blue dish towel or propped up with a book where he knew she was just rereading the same line over and over again. His concerns were always met with an "I'm fine."

What Izumi would never tell him or anyone for that matter was that during those moments she got quiet she was thinking '_Maybe this is my punishment for forgetting my son.'_

One year and three days after she had remembered every Mother's Day and grass stain she got the scare of a lifetime. From upstairs within the house she heard what sounded like scraping. Grabbing an umbrella from the stand by the front door she headed upstairs. From there it sounded as if the intrusion was coming from Sora's room.

She opened the door in a hurry hoping to surprise whoever was on the other side. The sight before her made her drop the umbrella – she was so shocked the resounding thud never made it to her ears.

With one leg, arms, and head through his window was Sora home at last. While his room had gone unchanged in his absence the changes in Sora surely made up for it. Gone was the baby fat and red jumpsuit. Before her was a taller, older version of her son. He'd only aged two years physically but there was an air around him that suggested he had been through things no one person should go through. Especially when you throw in that he had agreed to let everyone he had ever helped forget him.

His smile was still the same though. He grinned at her sheepishly once he was through the window, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hi, Mom. I'm home."

Vaguely she heard pieces of the beginning of a story. The words heart, friends, safe, and keyblade kept being reused.

Izumi didn't realize she was crying until Sora's arms were around her waist. He buried his face in her purple cotton dress he had gotten her three Christmases ago. The muffled "I'm so sorry, Mom" did not go unheard.

With that she put her arms around him and spoke the words he had been longing to hear for two years.

"Welcome home, Sora."

Author's Note: This is dedicated to my best friend Ash who inspired me to finally write out this idea he had. I hope you enjoyed this and please review if you have time!


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